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Animal Defenders of Westchester |
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Home Page We advocate on all animal protection and exploitation issues, including experimentation, factory farming, rodeos, breeders and traveling animal acts. Animal Defenders of Westchester |
Companion Animal Memorials In Memory of Mousie I'd like to thank everyone who wrote and shared stories regarding the passing
of my cat, Mousie. I have never had to make the decision to put an animal to
sleep, and it was one of the worst things I've ever had to do in my entire life.
If I may, I would like to say a few words about this experience, because my
heart is breaking, and Mousie's little life deserves acknowledgement, as they
all do: (To enlarge the photo of Mom and Mousie,
click on the photo or link) I found him as a tiny kitten in the woods, when he ran in front of my dog and
I. When I bent down to pick him up he rolled over on his back and playfully
batted my fingers. He was the size of my palm. (To enlarge the
photo of Baby Mousie, click on the photo or link) I called him 'Mouse' because I would say "What's that little mouse jumping
on your foot?" to my dog, Fox Boy, while he barked excitedly. "Mouse" turned
into "Mousichelli", "Mousette" and "Yoda" because he had enormous saucer-like
eyes as a baby; he would hang onto my neck and peer intently at my face with
those huge Yoda eyes, like he was trying to figure out what kind of cat I was.
The neighborhood kids called him 'Socks' due to his white-tipped feet. (To
enlarge the photo of Baby Mousie, click on the
photo or link) I am a dog person; but I loved that little monster immediately. He adored my
dogs, though neither one had much feeling for him. I became severely asthmatic
from him - but I couldn't dream of giving him up. Giving up dairy helped
enormously. He was there when each of my dogs passed, and when some animal protection
issue was crushingly horrible, he helped me not fall apart. He was so full of
life, always eager to run after a ball or dive-bomb the snow drifts that piled up
on the porch in the winter. He jumped all over the apartment like a baby, even
after being diagnosed with liver disease. I had started calling him "Baby cat",
"Baby man", "Baby dog"; I always call my kids a variety of names. (To enlarge the photo of
Baby Mousie, click
on the photo or link) In one of the bad jokes of the universe, though his liver was improved, he
had an undiagnosed aggressive cancer. He was 12 years old, not all that old for
a cat. I thought he was better, and knew I'd have him a few more years. (To enlarge the photo of
Mousie, click on
the photo or link) Two weeks ago he had a seizure; then he got up, seemed okay, and ate a good
meal. The vet said just watch him. The next day he began seizuring violently, like someone was picking him up
and smashing his little body. I rushed him to the emergency vet, then moved him
to his regular vet in the morning. This began a week of trying to find out what
was wrong, knowing what I had to do, praying he'd pass on his own - and holding
out hope that he'd wake up and come home. He had lost all bodily functions
including being able to digest his food, the vet said he 'wasn't my cat anymore'
- but his heart continued beating. (To enlarge the photo of
Mousie writing his novel, click on
the photo or link) Finally, watching him seizure repeatedly, still unconscious, clearly
suffering, I called the vet in. I prayed the floor would open up and swallow
me; I prayed God would stop his heart before I had to say the word; I would have
given anything to not have to do this to my little darling boy - who took a
flying leap at the front door when one of the neighborhood animals knocked on it for his dinner...who
strutted on top of the refrigerator after a raw dinner, like he was the Lion
King...who mischievously just had to bite Ellie's ears when she ate her
supper... (To enlarge the photo of Mousie and Ellie in Winter, click on
the photo or link) Then his little feet finally lay quiet. Now I think I see him for a moment,
hear him at his scratching post in the morning. I mourn his passing even while
there is another homeless one 'waiting in the wings'. (To enlarge the photo of
Mousie in Winter, click on
the photo or link) (To enlarge the photo of Mousie, click on
the photo or link) Thanks to Arlene Kahn for kindly sending a quote from Ilsa Paschal
Richardson, with this note, which she said was '...From Mousie with enormous
gratitude': "GRIEVE NOT, NOR SPEAK OF ME WITH TEARS, BUT LAUGH AND TALK OF ME AS IF I WERE BESIDE YOU. I LOVED YOU SO...'TWAS HEAVEN HERE WITH YOU" ...and to everyone else who shared their stories of holding out hope, of confusion,
of second-guessing and remorse. It was an enormous help after my loss was
compounded with the shattering effect of having to 'make the decision.' (To enlarge the photo of
Mousie and Ellie, click on
the photo or link) Love and blessings to all, Kiley |
Your comments and
inquiries are welcome
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